Last weekend I drove from Los Angeles up to San Francisco to visit my daughter and her boyfriend. It was rainy. I happen to love a rainy weekend by the sea. So cozy. So much atmosphere.
I’m busy writing the second book in my Night Angels Chronicles, Book of Angels, so I assured my daughter, Katya, that I was fine with sitting by the fire and writing. And, in fact, SF is such an inspiring place to write. It is a city of artists, as can be seen in the acceptance of graffiti everywhere!
In order to give me strength, Katya’s boyfriend, Jack, who is half Russian, brought out the Russian candies. And Katya made maple-nut scones. In the afternoon, she made me a gin and tonic. What’s not to love about visiting my daughter?
On Saturday evening, as the ran beat down and the fire burned in the heart, we watched The Man Who Knew Too Much and other classic oldies and ate the most delicious homemade falafles, curtesy of Jack.
On Sunday, they gave me a driving tour. They live on the edge of Fremont, in a lovely condo. Nearby, is a French café run by Japanese called Tous les Jours, with staff in the cutest outfits with the nicest smiles. We got coffee and an interesting array of pastries.
And then began the tour of Berkeley, Stanford, Sausilito, Palo Alto, the hills above the city, and the bridges, with marvelous views of the city skyline rising out of the mist.
Standing in the face of a gale at Tiburon, wind and water and the smell of the sea, I was more than happy with the weather. I felt alive and rejuvenated.
What’s not to love about a wild and stormy weekend in San Francisco?